


Vulnerable

by hanyou_elf



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:52:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyou_elf/pseuds/hanyou_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This can not happen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> Broken!Morgan and references to oc underage non-con.

_"Eventually you will come to understand that love heals everything, and love is all there is." Gary Zukav_

Derek Morgan was sitting quietly in the corner of the living room he shared with Spencer.  He’d hurt the skinny man, taken advantage of their size differences and used it against the lithe form.  It wasn’t that he had wanted to hurt Spencer, he just… It was that he was overwhelmed and unable to express it in any other way but the physical sense.  And unfortunately, Spencer had been the closest thing.

He wouldn’t cry.  He hadn’t cried in months.  Not since the team had heard him confess to being raped as a child.  He was afraid of the implications of what it all meant.  Spencer could probably recite the statistics for assaults like he’d just done; could probably explain the reasoning behind the way he’d attacked his lover.  Although, Spencer probably wouldn’t be that for much longer.  He was probably packing his things out of the bedroom while Derek did nothing more than cower on the floor in their living room.

He wouldn’t blame Spencer for leaving.  He wouldn’t even cry about it.  He would try to keep it from affecting his relationship with him at work: they wouldn’t let it break them apart as profilers.  He wasn’t strong enough to be with Spencer like they both wanted.  He couldn’t be strong enough to get through the past, and sometimes, when it came upon him like it had today, he wasn’t be able to control himself. 

“Y-you know, aggression is a common side effect in somebody who’s experienced sexual trauma in their past,” Spencer murmured hesitantly.  His voice didn’t sound broken, or choked, like he’d imagined it would be.  In fact, there was steel in his voice, there was peace and there was confidence.

Derek couldn’t stop himself from looking up at the other man.  Did that mean… was he forgiven, or that he was simply understood?  Spencer stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his naked chest, and low slung pajama pants that rested precariously on his narrow hips.  He wore his glasses on his thin face and his eyes were narrowed dangerously behind the lens.  His hip was cocked to the side, temptingly brave and enticing at the same time.  Spencer was a beautiful image, a wonderful and empowering visage that made Derek want to have the same confidence.

And wasn’t that a conundrum all on it’s own?  It was supposed to be the other way around.  Derek was supposed to be the brave one, he was supposed to be the one who ran the show and Spencer was supposed to be the one who followed him, who supported him. 

“And… and often somebody who’s experienced trauma like that engages in behavior that is self-destructive and tragic.  This person is incapable of enduring proper relationships, of building strong interpersonal relationships.  Their self-destructive behavior extends to the relationship, and usually ends with the victim committing suicide.” His hands had been fluttering rapidly as he talked- _lectured._   His eyes were serious and composed, his face drawn.  He was scared for Derek, and he was desperate to hide it.

“I hurt you,” he murmured instead.  He couldn’t stop the choked whisper or the hitch in his voice.

And that was the ugly truth of it all.  The bright red flesh on his arms were the proof.  Spencer’s arms were covered in what would soon be bruises, his stomach had no physical evidence of the punch he’d been given, but it was there in Derek’s mind.

Clearly, as though he were watching it in a television, he could see himself throwing Spencer against the nearest wall, could see the slender back arch in pain at the sudden shock.  He could see the fear and the pain in Spencer’s eyes as Derek held him painfully still against the wall. And when Spencer had struggled to gain some semblance of control, when he'd fought against Derek's terrifying hold, he'd been punched.

"I don't care. It's not like I'm going to break," Spencer sighed. Derek bowed his head and clenched his eyes against the pain. It was a monumental effort to not cover his ears childishly. "Derek, you haven't done anything wrong.''

''I hurt you. _I_ hurt you!'' He scrubbed his hands over his face, scrubbing it over the barely there stubble, over his cheeks to wipe away tears that never would fall.

''Lots of people have hurt me before. And you did nothing but react to the stimuli. I instigated it,'' Spencer rebutted. ''I asked for it.''

''God, Spencer,'' Derek whimpered.

''Get up baby,'' Spencer encouraged. Derek couldn't disguise the jump of fear when he heard how close Spencer was. Or the fact that he'd been called baby.

''You're not leaving?'' he asked, far too scared of the possibility.

''I'm not leaving.''

Derek was amazed again at the steel in Spencer, something he could have only guessed at for a long time. Occasionally the team would get too see it, but generally, the doctor was caught up in his intellectual roles.

''If this is your attempt at making peace,'' Derek forced himself to laugh. He tried to force steel into his gaze and met the dark brown of Spencer's eyes. There was no mirth, only concern and compassion.

Spencer was going to try to protect Derek. ''I'm not alright,'' Derek whispered as he leaned into Spencer's welcoming embrace.

''I know.''

It was Spencer's self-assuredness that threw Derek. One of the things he loved the most about Spencer was his ability to take care of himself, no matter how fragile he looked. Spencer was strong, powerful and protective when he had to be. Derek had to believe that Spencer pretended he wasn't to let his team members have their own securities.

''I... I'm sorry,'' Derek whimpered, his voice heavy with threatening tears. They wouldn't fall, both knew it.

Spencer knelt beside him and ran his hands over Derek's cheeks, down his neck and across his shoulders. He repeated the movements and Derek couldn't help but marvel at the fact that Spencer always seemed to know what he needed.

''Derek,'' Spencer said firmly. ''I love you, and I'm willing to put up with just about anything, but this, what happened tonight, it can never happen again.''

Derek clenched his eyes shut. He'd hurt Spencer, and he was being forgiven. ''I know,'' he whispered.

But he couldn't help it. Those kids, those poor abused victims they hadn't been able to save. Poisoned before they could get to them. Physical, sexual, and emotional abuse evident throughout the compound. Children had been kept as little more than fuck-holes, treated with abandon and beaten for everything. And the ringleader Patrick Huber committed suicide after having convinced everyone else to follow suit, before the rightful vengeance they'd deserved through the courts and prison ripped away.

And Derek had been unfortunate enough to have to find the children. A mixture of naked bodies, of bruised flesh and grotesque grimaces of pain and relief etched into their faces; burned into Derek's mind for eternity.

''I didn't hurt any of those children,'' Spencer explained patiently. ''I have never hurt a child.''

Derek clenched his eyes shut against Spencer's words. The truth was glaringly obvious. The doctor would never hurt anyone if he could avoid it. Spencer was a lover.

''I know,'' Derek whined. His voice was desperate, needy and he wasn't going to apologize for it. He couldn't be strong in his panic.

''You can _not_ bring that home,'' Spencer murmured.

Derek knew he was right. He couldn't bring that here, to this sanctuary that he shared with Spencer Reid. He was supposed to be stronger than that, he was supposed to be composed.

He was falling apart and the only thing keeping him together was the lithe man offering him forgiveness.

''Come here,'' Spencer ordered in a soft voice.

Derek dared to do nothing else but obey. Especially since he was being forgiven, taken into Spencer's good graces once more.

The children. Always it was the children that affected him the most. They were the hardest to deal with, the hardest cases to handle. Spencer understood that and he did what he could do to protect Derek, to give him a chance to relax, to calm down and come to grips with what the case had done to them.

Spencer's hand wrapped around Derek's and the smaller man pulled him toward the bedroom, where the problem had started. He wouldn't throw Spencer against a wall again, he wouldn't be surprised by his touches.

Derek couldn't stop the heat that returned to the pit of his stomach when Spencer smirked confidently at him. This man gave him peace, gave him hope, and gave him strength.

''You can make it up to me,'' Spencer mumbled with quiet confidence.

Derek nodded slowly and allowed Spencer to lead him to their shared bedroom. It was a mixture of a mature room of muted browns and blues, and a nerd's paradise. Figurines from Star Wars, Star Trek, Dune, and something he'd heard called: Gundam Wing. It was a perfect blend of who they were as a couple. Spencer laid his glasses on the bedside table and fell into the large bed, framed by a pale blue blanket.

Chestnut brown hair scattered around his head and he licked his lips. ''You may touch me but don't expect me to return the favor,'' Spencer explained softly.

Derek smiled slightly and nodded, he understood his rules. He understood his limitations. Crawling onto the bed, he stalked along the long, lean lines of Spencer's body, pressing kisses to naked skin as he moved. He twined a dark hand with a long slender pale one, marveling at the power, the strength of character in the small body. He molded himself against Spencer's body, lining them up in perfect harmony as he knelt over his slender lover.

Derek wanted to press a kiss to Spencer's lips, wanted to sing praises to the genius of the lithe doctor, but settled for burying his face in the crook of Spencer's neck. He draped their joined hands together over Spencer's chest, and wrapped an arm around the slender shoulders, holding him tight.

Derek breathed deeply, shuddering as he moved over the slim body. All angles and contours but so beautiful.

''I love you,'' he promised. ''I'm sorry.''

Before Spencer could answer, he claimed his lips, his tongue slid over pursed lips, asking for entrance into his lover's mouth. Dark hands traveled over creamy skin. When his tongue dived into Spencer's mouth, his hands slid over the soon to be bruises on pale arms. Derek wanted to cry in joy as he enjoyed the physical manifestation of forgiveness.

The kiss broke when Derek tried to slide his hand lower than Spencer wanted. ''No!'' he panted. ''Anything lower and I'll break my own rules!''

Derek nodded. His erection would not be attended to, and that was alright. He hadn't exactly played the role of a lover very well before hand. Derek nodded again. Unfortunately, he understood what it was to be with somebody you had no love for; somebody you feared and hated seeing but knew you had to. He would never force that prison on anyone else.

''Lay with me,'' Spencer requested from the bed. Derek's dark eyes traced the slim body, stopping on the red marks, desperate to make them go away.

''Why are you forgiving me?'' Derek forced himself to ask.

Spencer pulled the dark man down, forced his head to the lithe chest, and just held him. Derek shivered at the silent implication, the chance that Spencer was offering. He wrapped his arms tightly around the skinny body, a lifeline when he was drowning.

''Because I love you,'' Spencer whispered.

That was the final straw before Derek cracked. His body shuddered and his grip tightened before the tears he'd been holding back, the tears he'd been fighting for so long, slid free in a slow trickle. Spencer loved him, completely and utterly. Spencer supported him, no matter what. Even when he had hurt him.

''Talk to me baby,'' Spencer ordered softly. ''Tell me what it was about today.''

Derek nodded and with his head bowed beneath Spencer's chin, his grip powerful around the slim body, the mourning profiler began to speak. Haltingly, broken words that were hard to piece together, but full of every emotion he'd had to endure throughout his long childhood.

''Most... most of the... time I wanted... I wanted to die. And I... I thought about it... about it all the time. I thought... I could die... if I could die... Buford would stop... it would all... end. But momma, she... she didn't know... but she was so proud. And seeing... those kids Spence, they... they didn't get a chance. Nobody was proud of them.'' Derek tilted his face into Spencer's stomach and inhaled deeply, calming himself slowly. ''They were treated like little more than whores. And I... we couldn't save them!'' Derek's grip tightened as he admitted his final, biggest failure: ''I wasn't strong enough.''

''We tried. God, did we try. We all wanted to save those kids. But sometimes the evil is greater than we are. Mourn them, pray for their lost lives, but don't for a _second_ believe that you were never strong enough.'' Derek shifted, tears hot and painful in too long dry eyes as he sought comfort from the slender doctor. How odd their positions in this moment, but how perfect they were. ''One of the things I love the most is your strength.''

''Let me... let me be weak?'' Derek asked brokenly.

Spencer's arms tightened against Derek's broad frame, holding his dark lover close. ''You never have to ask.''


End file.
